Dirakkis Turn 8
Actions: Skaldaea: Hearing the disastrous news of Flenser's expedition to the southern jungles, Raven and Amaranth immediately decide that he must be rescued quickly. If they hurry, and are very fortunate, it might be possible to bring the component members of Flenser back together, as long as the members have managed to fight against the forced merging into the savage southern bands. (Expansionx1, south towards bay on coast). As the popularity of the new beliefs begin to grow and spread from the merchants with contact to the Stahl to the rest of the population of Skaldaea and Val'dem, many of the educated members of society begin to debate the implications of the fledgling religion. A number of treatises begin to surface, and the intelligentsia take sides on the more popular treatises, forming blocks in support of each. (Culturex1, religion). As the Shadowfall once again looms over the horizon, covering the lands in darkness, the city begins to shut down as usual. In those necessary positions that cannot simply wait out the Shadowfall, the protective unguent is applied and the bands venture out into the darkness. A lone musician, slathered in the cream, slowly makes his way to the balcony atop his house, looking up at Raven's Roost, and takes out his instrument, beginning to compose. (Culturex1, Dark Moon Sonata). Though Flenser's expedition was a failure, preparation for future expansions continues to proceed around Tamer's Shallows. Though the necessary shipments of metals from Val'dem failed to arrive in order to produce standardised armor for the League's military, the province has begun to produce a large supply of cotton in the warm climate around the lake. A large portion of this produce is taken in lieu of taxation by Skaldaea, and local weavers are contracted to produce vast numbers of uniforms, blue and white, while local leatherworkers begin work on a number of boots to supply the armed forces. (Mil Tech, uniformsx1). Zinbiel: “I’ll have a few beers”. “What have you got for them” Edu pulled out a cylindrical bottle with green serpentine handles running up each side. The snakes’ mouths met at the top where they formed the opening. “Sorry. Prices have risen.” The bartender replied. “It’s company policy. That’s only worth a little bit of beer. I can get you a lot of water though.” Regardless of the value, the bartender couldn’t shake his eyes from the bottle. The snakes looked so real. The customer chuckled “So you don’t want my snakes? You must be new here. My name is Edu the chief, and I wasn’t attempting to barter with you. I want a few beers”. The bartender finally took his eyes off of the snakes and looked at his customer again. “Why would I just give you a beer?” The bartender started sweating. He did not like this situation, but he had no idea why. It was the grand opening of a new Pabeera just outside of Zinbiel, in a place called Lamin. He had heard rumors of strange things taking place here, but they were just rumors right? Lost in thought for a brief second the bartender caught something moving in the corner of his eye. He whirled around to find, nothing. Now the bartender thought he was just paranoid, but as he looked back at Edu he noticed the snakes were no longer on the bottle. “Don’t move” Edu commanded. “I want you to listen carefully. Rumor has it Zinbiel is trying to unite all of Loriel. Send Rak or Swanky, I hear they are sensible representatives of the Youngers. I want to speak with them about our joining A few arbitrary moments in time later Swanky arrived at the Pabeera in Lamin. The bartender told Swanky of Edu and how he appeared to perfectly control snakes and how Swanky should fear Edu for the limit to his power is unknown. Swanky heeded the advice, but he loved animals so he was honestly excited to see what was going on. He walked in expecting a crowed bar full of workers and customers alike, but only one customer was there, Edu. He ordered a few beers for him and his new acquaintance and they sat down in a corner to discuss business. “So you’re interested in joining Zinbiel”. Swanky clearly didn’t know how to start the conversation but it was something. Edu peered around the bar. “There is interest, yes. But it will not be that easy”. “What do you want?” Swanky replied being a little too direct. “Full control of the military”. Edu stated as bluntly as possible. “No” the response was even blunter. Swanky got up and headed for the door. “If I were you I would sit back down”. Edu motioned to the snakes on Swanky’s hand. “HAHA really? These snakes are harmless. Surely you inherited something better than that. Let me guess, nobody knows these are not venomous or even poisonous for that matter.” Swanky continued for the door pausing for just a second to see Edu’s reaction and it was worth the entire journey. “Wait! How did you know? You can’t tell anyone! I’ll lose my place as chief… I’ll do anything.” Edu pleaded and rambled about how his father would be disappointed and other boring stuff that Swanky didn’t listen to. “So you’ll do anything? How about join Zinbiel? You and all your freaks. And since I’m feeling generous, plus you reaction has put me in the best of moods, I will outlaw the tar and feathering of your people.” (Expansion 1) Swanky continued in a more serious tone. “As far as the military goes, we don’t have one. At all. Most Zinbielians are content with their current life, to put it as politely as possible” “Well my snakes may be able to convince some people, unless everyone has knowledge of endangered snakes.” (Raise Military Tech 2). “Can you rally your people too?” It was curious that Edu didn’t lead with that. “Well, I might. But there are only 20 true tamers left, and the best ones control rabbits or cats. I guess it’s better than my snakes though.” “At least you didn’t get stuck with a some flies.” The pair laughed and the worry finally lifted from Edu’s face. “I’ll rally our tamers. I’m sure they would love to come out of hiding.” (Military Tech 3) “Maybe they will even breed some.” Swanky jested, but it was true. Edu had been thinking about getting the tamers to breed for a while. Their population plummeted in a war that seemed like forever ago. Nowadays it was dangerous to raise a tamer kid, since adult tamers are so weak and kids so volatile. The kids could easily kill their parents. A tamer can completely control all members of the first animal species they see. Kids use to be placed in a dark room until a suitable animal was picked, now that was a luxury. Most ended up with insects, if they were lucky a small mammal or bird. Edu was their leader and he was finally ready to risk his life for the future (Raise Military Tech 4). Ramkarh: Edara took her seat in court for the first time since returning from the swamp foreigner’s lands. This time, however, it was not fellow priests and priestesses beside her, but commonfolk; a farmer to one side and a miner on the other, from the looks of them. It was time for Tel Bine, the annual harvest festival, a spectacle enjoyed by all Ramkarh from the lowliest laborer to the king himself. Performers danced with large silken puppets in the courtyard; that would be Okmaste in the corner, leopard god of summer, facing off against his icy twin sister Sharale. The two silk heads snapped at each other occasionally, the performers giving their fiercest snarls as they circled. An antelope with long curving horns darted about the two, whispering first in one ear and then the other – that was Rebokar, whose deceit had started the feud between the two at the beginning of the world. Suddenly, a newcomer burst onto the stage, bearing the great striped face of Ptomarsis, god of Harvest. He leapt between the two snarling masks, representing… wait, what did it represent again? It was either the time he broke both of their arms and kept them locked up for 2 years which completely threw off the entire seasonal cycle, or maybe it was the time he asserted his dominance in a stones match that was going to be to the death until their mother stepped in… although she couldn’t see any elephant heads in the courtyard so it didn’t look like they were setting up for that. Now hang on; now what looked like a likeness of Laiknathe was trotting onto the field. That didn’t fit with any of the harvest myths she could think of. It seemed a popular decision with the crowd; the miner next to her leaned forward in his seat with an odd look in his eye. She leaned back and gazed up at the temples framed by the cloudless sky. That didn’t make any sense at all. (Culture x2 Income x2) Stahl: The Steelborn were a little more than displeased to be assigned watch-dog duty over some impestous youths. But, alas, everything for the stahl. The Silvermen brought in to teach trade to the children soon discovered that the curriculum that they were using was far too behind the childrens ability. Higher level curriculum was brought in, and The Steel Dragon was relieved to not have to enact discipline every five minutes. (Culture 1) This gave him time. In the aftermath of his shame he retreated with three of his most trusted Long-gang to the lava training grounds. He begins his training, old though he is, he is not yet past what is considered fighting age. Simply put, two centuries of having a police to run has made him duller than he was when he challenged the previous Steel Dragon for the position. That being said, he handles one of his subordinates at a time with ease. He needs to be able to take on ten at a time to be considered a field worthy Steel Dragon. This could take a while. (DISCIPRINE TRAININGUUU) (raise army 2) The Gold Council had not forgotten the massacre of the last dark moon. As the nights grew queerer the scouts were being drawn back into the capital. Stahl of every caste marched in silent pilgrimage to the original magma flow from which they were born. There together they prayed to the Platinum for protection, or sat in silent remembrance of those lost in the mysterious massacre. The ten Long-gang stood at the sealed gate of the city, sworn to defend the masses behind them. ( Dark Moon Tech 3 & 4) OUR MAGMA-FAITH WILL SAVE US SURELY Stormborn: When the three ships first were seen coming towards the Island of Storms everyone was amazed; however, they were not nearly as amazed as when they discovered who the inhabitants of the ship were. The three ships were the dreaded Songbirds: pirate vessels that had made a name for themselves as being undefeated since their formation. Most sailors heard stories of these ships with an air of unbelief, seeing these tales as nothing more than horror stories to scare the young a foolish. For the Stormborn these tales became all too real, all too quickly. As the three captains made their way unerringly towards the Syntolla, all could see that they were without a doubt Infused with the Storm. Surprisingly the Syntolla left their alcove for the first time since their creation to meet the Songbirds halfway. There it was revealed that the Syntolla had called the Songbirds to be the new leaders of the Stormborn. The Syntolla believed that these pirates would bring a strength and sense of purpose that was lacking when Atticus was in charge. Surprisingly the Syntolla were adamant, however, that three could not rule as one. To rectify this problem they created what would later be known as The Testing. All three would go into an enclosed area, and when they emerged the ruler would be known. The other two, of course, would act as advisors and seconds to The Marked. Should either of the two seconds start to question the ability to rule of The Marked they could retain the Right of Challenge, removing The Marked and putting themselves in their place. However, the challenge was another day. Upon their arrival, certain decisions had to be made immediately. With yet still no clear leader The Songbirds conferred and came to the conclusion that while the Dark Moon was a matter that needed a solution (1-2: Dark Moon Defense), it should not be their only focus. Just looking around they could easily see that there was little in the way of a shipwright, much less any ships other than their own. How could an island have any hope of a defense without any navy? So they sent for a shipwright to start work on more ships at once (3-4: Naval Military Tech). Kingdom of the Stars: Ake and his pod tore through the woods after the last of the rebels. Branches snapped , and bushes were trampled as the 5 ran after the traitors. For the past month, they had been hunting. An endless game of cat and mouse as Ake's men slowly caught and killed the remaining rebels. Now, the only survivors were Dal, their leader, and two of the bigger pups he managed to convince to join his side.Dal's group fled as fast as their legs would carry them, splitting off in the vain hope that at least one would survive. Dal, the freedom fighter, the man who refused to allow another to rule his will was now alone. Eventually, he was cornered. Dal put his back against a tree and readied his spear. Before him stood Ake, the massive black beast himself, covered in the furs of the Sabres he has hunted and wielding a massive iron axe. At his sides, his podmates had spears and slings trained on Dal, ready to end him from a safe distance at a moment's notice. A moment passed as the two leaders stared at one another. Dal did his best to maintain his defiance until the end. Ake, however, began to howl. His Voice tore at Dal's resistance, ate away at his will and his soul. The howls chilled the rebel's heart, and slowly began to seep into his bones. Dal longed to strike out, to end the agony either in his own death, or that of Ake. His body disagreed with him, rooted to the spot by powers beyond his control. As the whirlwind of noise continued, Dal's body moved without his permission, and soon, he was unsure if he existed at all. (Mind Control Mil tech 1,2,3.) (Raise armies from newly conditioned rebels 4) Akachk: 1-2, Continue Asab's Fishing Trip, Naval Tech) More scouts are dispatched east, to map and prepare the southern coast for settlement. Slowly but surely, all of the peninsula falls under the control of the Confederation. (3, Expansion) Deep within his observatory, Sakahi continues his experiments and observations. In the past weeks, a handful of Akachk had arrived, swearing themselves to his service in exchange for a chance to learn. He was glad for the help, he needed as many pairs of hands as he could find. Recently, he's begun experimenting with coal and other minerals, trying to create a more powerful combustion effect. He's had no luck so far, but optimism- and a steady stream of assistants- encourage him to continue. (4, Military) N.B.R. With the Naked Bear Revolution having finally been quashed, Raddomn announces that the N.B.R. can return to a sense of normalcy, and peace once more. Immediately after this sentence leaves his mouth, a nervously wailing teen comes rolling through the square, riding atop the newest competitor in the Rotund Races- Bearable Victory. Normalcy has returned, and with it, the bears have been allowed to compete in all Races. Bookkeepers have him at 5:1 odds to win, and 3:1 to eat another racer. (Culture 1+ Income 2) Kerlioh sits at her desk, sighing. Armor for bears had been such a splendid idea. It was light, durable, and effective. Not to mention cheap to make and aesthetically pleasing too. But no, they just had to throw a grisly fit, and now her armor was trashed forever. And to top matters off, when she had voiced her complaints to the good Sir Snufflebottom, he had but one word in response. (Or Capybaras. The translators were certain it was one of the two) (BearTech 3) Following the aftermath of the Naked Bear fiasco, many citizens decide it would be easier to just up and leave rather than clean up the city. So they do. (Expansion 4) Commune of the Gods Domnall sat in his sacred hut on the outskirts of the Chefornak's main village, polishing his nails. The antlered beasts that had been wreaking havoc as of late were a sign of ill-omen, the villagers said. It wasn't safe to go out at night anymore. The Great Enemy was trying to strike at the White Child now that he had finally arrived. A little buzzer goes off in the god's brain. A halfway-decent bar had been built somewhere. Wait a minute. On Remora. The bastards had actually gone and done it. They'd made a way for him to return home. He knows what he has to do--and he was sure that, now, he had the actual power to do it. His eyes twinkle. Prayers evaporate off of his skin in a golden mist. Eagerly, Domnall struts out through his front door. But the door doesn't open to the outside air of the Chefornak village. It opens to Trickster Space. Domnall was a wandering god--and being in this archetype afforded him certain privileges that other gods didn't have, most notably, the ability to mask his true appearance, and the ability to travel long distances in very short time frames. This was where Trickster Space came in. Speaking from a purely rational standpoint, Trickster Space is a labyrinthine trans-dimensional space that connects all bars, inns, gambling houses, and places of ill-repute to one another. These places were the only exits, but the entrances were literally everywhere. The God of Trickery--the original one--before humans split him into multiple, more manageable parts (of which Domnall was sure he was one, although he had no real way of telling) had created this place long ago for the express purpose of dicking around. Overcome with nostalgia upon seeing his old haunt once again, Domnall takes a look around. He floats weightless in a well-lit yet cramped hallway made of shiny wood. The whole place had the feel of a bar. There were no floors in Trickster Space, not in this part, anyway. It was like a hallway made of four ceilings. Old Commeran gas light fixtures and chandeliers dangle outward from each wall, imbued by a gravity of their own, and making the place a nuisance to float through. The hallway was adorned with brass handles--sort of guiding rails--running up and down throughout the loops and branching paths. The layout of the maze is familiar to him, and Domnall bobs up and down through the air around corners and into tight wall crannies until he finds the door to this new bar that his friends have built. He opens it. The place is small but has a comfortable atmosphere. There's no one serving drinks, but Domnall can hear voices from the far end of the room. He claps eyes on Pung, looking vaguely uncomfortable, caught in a conversation with a human, of all things. Multiple humans--sailors, by the looks of them. "God of Dance, eh?" "That's... yeah, that's my deal." "So," the Commeran sailor says, his tone veering towards one that was more accusatory. "Did you invent dance, then?" "I... what?" "Did you invent dance? It's a simple question." "No. I'm sure, you know... some guy did." "Then how's it fair you get to be the god of something that some HUMAN invented?" The sailor's friends are all grinning. Domnall speaks no words, waiting for the sailors to recognize his prescence. The God of Barfights, in his natural habitat, exuded an aura that made the most level-headed of men beligerent and insecure about their masculinity. Pung instantly brightens when he sees his old acquaintance, but the God of Dance's smile fades when he realizes what is about to happen. Standing up from the group of sailors, he pats Domnall on the shoulder and whistles an off-key tune as he walks out the front door into the snow. Two hours pass. The four gods wait outside the bar for Domnall to emerge. The last of the screams have finally stopped. The boy limps out the front door, the side of his face covered with dried blood from a wound that had healed earlier. Domnall looks different. The red tunic and yellow bow were still there, but none of the four gods had any idea what the hell he was doing with a cape made of tiny conch shells strung together with twine. The conch shell tiara was also new. There was a whole conch shell motif that was just so flagrantly... present. Domnall staggers up to the group and explains his plan. All of them will embark via swan boat next Wednesday to the island of Cheforna, where he will introduce them to the natives as members of his new pantheon. (culture, 1-4) Phantasmagoria: Look at this land, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my dominion's complete? Some humans think I'm a god Who can imagine anything! Look at this cove, watch it unfold! How many wonders can one kingdom hold? What more could one creature want When it controls everything? I dream polywogs and furballs a plenty I think jungles and parapets galore. You want jack-a-lopes? I've got hundreds! But who cares? No big deal, I want more. I want to be where the Peters are. I want to sing, watch Katoba, dancing! And walk around on those... what do you call them? Oh, yes, "feet." Being underground, you don't get too far. Legs are required for jumping, dancing Strolling along down a... What do they call it? "Street?" Up where they walk, up where they run, Up where they spend all day in the sun, Wandering free: Wish I could see all of the world. I would just die if I could fly like all the Peters. What would I pay to spend a day on top of the earth? You I have birthed, unto the earth, to help me now, sons and daughters Hear my petition, I have a mission, For all of you now: Learn everything that you possibly can Ask yourself questions And find the answers Like what's a fire and why does it - what's the word? Burn? Hark, now it's your turn! So what's to be done: you're going to scour the lands 'neath the sun! My progeny, Go forth for me Into the world. Slow Growth: Culture Slow Growth: Income Dark Moon Tech Expand Katoba: A single hour stands between night and day in the increasingly empty Katoba heartland. Against the scarlet backdrop of the setting sun, a peculiar outline is visible: a sort of winding stairway that ends in a small platform, maybe ten feet across and thirty feet tall. From around this makeshift promontory issue several columns of smoke- the telltale sign of tribespeople gathering. A closer look reveals that a single figure stands on top of the platform, tall and wiry, facing a large crowd of men, women and children. From his vantage point, Apacha surveys the gathering. Many had come to hear him tonight, it seemed. It was heartening to see. A few of Mankato’s old followers had arrived that afternoon. Although every newcomer was welcome, the memory of his old friend’s betrayal made him tighten his lips. Of all the other chieftains, he thought Mankato was the one he could count on… But it was too late to dwell on that now. Hundreds of Katobans were watching him silently, eyes glistening in the firelight, faces uplifted, furs wrapped closely to help ward off the rising winter chill. They wanted him to speak, to give them courage, to keep the darkness at bay for as long as he could. And so he began. As always, he started by reciting tales of the Great Spirits: Coyote, Little Bear and Great Bear, Vulture and Sun-Hawk and many more. They were simple stories all, meant for children more than anyone else, but they had power in that they were a common thread between all the different tribes. Most importantly of all, they were a resonant link to the ancestors, and the land that Apacha and his followers still shared with them. As the sun started to dip below the horizon, Apacha begins to slowly steer his narrative towards the present dangers facing the Katoba nation. The moonfire, the terrors of the night, but most of all the unraveling fabric of their traditional culture. “Don’t you see?” he cries, “when we flee the heartland we submit to the Dark Moon. We give over our beautiful fields and grasses to the creatures of the night. We humiliate our ancestors. Never, as long as I shall live, will I abandon the lands where my father died, and my grandfather, and his father before him, on and on through generations beyond count.” As he told it, the other chieftains had been deceived. “The moon hangs over us always, as it does everywhere else. It is not the sort of enemy that one can hide from. If we leave the steppes, the hateful spirits will only grow bolder and stronger until they reach the new settlements, and Phantasmagoria, and whatever lands lay beyond. Only by staying brave of heart, and firm of conviction, can we push back the night and restore honor to our ancestors!” As the sunlight gives out, its red glow is replaced by a ring of bonfires, lit in unison, encircling the onlookers with warmth and sanctuary. Hopeful cheers and shouts fill the air. A few miles away, invisible in the tall grasses, the Waterless Man looks on, steeples its slender fingers, and is silent. Results: Skaldaea: 16, 8, 16, 6 (Dark Imoonity) Amaranth departs swiftly for the southern jungles, fearing the worst. It had been some time since they had heard news from the ferals here, which had probably led to Flenser’s overconfidence. That they would be so prepared to repel Skaldaean expansion was unthinkable. But he had little time to ponder such things. Amaranth’s band moves swiftly southward, passing from village to village in an attempt to meet with the northernmost chief. After a series of mysterious directions, he finds himself slowly walking into a jungle cave, the air thick with humidity. A band of guards stand against each wall, armed to the teeth with a strange amalgamation of hide and wooden weapons alongside Skaldaean ranseurs. Before him, a group of four individuals stand poring over a shoddy map, with a freshly slain woman slumped over a chair behind them. “Finally here, are you?” inquired the Flenser-Chieftain. “Come, help me map this thing out. We only have about a month until the southern tribes migrate eastward.” The next three weeks are a flurry of violence and conquest as Amaranth and Flenser lead their war against the chieftains. Only three of Flenser’s five original members are found, with one having been slain and the other having taken his own life rather than be used. However, he makes up for this by press ganging a pair from the chieftains. In the end, the subjugation of the southern tribes is absolute, even with their acquisition of Flenser’s knowledge. (Expansion GET, -10 wealth, +5 income) Within Skaldaea itself, things do not go quite as smoothly. Raven, seeing herself as the founder of Reyne worship, puts a great deal of effort into quashing religious debates and insists that her own patterns of worship be strictly adhered to. It does little to ease the often fiery debates. (No religion success.) At the same time, the new Skaldaean uniforms are met with mixed feelings by the soldiers. While they look snazzy as hell, Skaldaeans do not like the, well, uniformity that it enforces, and bands quickly take to modifying their uniforms to signify the members of their band. They know all too well what it is like to be a mindless mass. (No military success). In the midst of such disquiet, many find solace in the beautiful song that echoes out each night from Raven’s Roost, a mournful but beautiful opposition to the Dark Moon’s oppression. (+3 culture) Zinbiel: 13, 2, 17, 10 (-2 to all rolls due to the presence of the Dark Moon) With Edu’s tribe joining the fold of Zinbiel, the nation soon comes to include the entire island on which it resides. However, his submission does not represent the end of the influence of the tribes. From the eastern coast, a tribe of tamers come forth to oppose the expansion of the fledgling nation into their ancestral homes. This tribe, led by a chieftain named Lena, are tamers of all manner of birds, from great albatrosses to hawks to sparrows, all of which obey the commands of her people. For Pyth, it is his worst nightmare realized. The bird tamers call down their feathery hordes and repel the Zinbielians, determined to put up a strong resistance against the so-called usurpers. (Expansion get, -10 wealth, +5 income) REVOLUTION The response to this brazen attack on the nation is mixed. Edu, seeking to prove his worth to the Youngers, brings the tamers of his tribe out of their collective hiding. They are a motley sort, calling upon worms and mice and crows, but he organizes them all the same. If he can show that he is half as good of a tactician as his boldness would make him out to be, perhaps he could become the commander of Zinbiel’s forces after all. (+2 military) However, this great rousing of the tamers leaves them with little time for screwing or coercing. Firstly, the creatures they command are not all that terrifying, and Edu decides it is best to see who survives the oncoming battle before trying to intimidate the other Zinbielians into fighting. Secondly, leaving a young tamer parentless was an even greater death wish than trying to tame them: one particular orphan once commanded an entire herd of mammoths to stampede through his hometown. It was simply not worth the risk. (No military raising successes) Ramkarh: 6,17,17,19 That year’s Tel Bine festival was perhaps the single greatest event yet celebrated in the Ramkarhan Kingdom. From miles around, peasants and merchants and priests journeyed from their homes to the capital to take part in the festivities, bringing with them all manner of foods, jewelry, and crafts. The people were pleased, the priests were drunk, and the actors on point. And during this most inebriating and exciting of celebrations, it came to pass that the re-enactment story changed that year, and Laiknathe was brought to the forefront. The people who would have cared were told to relax and enjoy such the festival, while those who caused the change had something more to be excited about. As the play reached its peak, the cats of the seasons began a fervent dance before the crowd, twisting and spinning and leaping as the circled about Laiknathe. Her likeness appeared to lift slowly off the ground as they danced, the silver bangles placed on the puppet’s arms jingling as a loud chanting began. For a moment, the crowd quieted, and the courtyard seemed to go dark in spite of the bonfires. Then, with a slam, the pole that the puppet stood upon was hammered onto the ground, and the other gods made to bow before their queen. There is a long pause. Then a cheer. Then the dancing and festivities resumed. (+3 culture, +7 income) Stahl: 10, 17, 7, 11 (-2 to all rolls due to the presence of the Dark Moon) Beneath the mountains of the Stahl, the effects of the Dark Moon are just as apparent as on the surface. Long flows of magma, used by the metal men to refine various ores and temper their crafts, seem to cool with its arrival, with vast chunks of rock cooling on their surfaces and slowing the progress of the Stahl. It worries them moreso that with each coming of the malevolent orb that they seem to feel heavier, slower. For one Stahl, these oppressive conditions are perfect for training. “It is the way of the Dragon to be the strongest of the Stahl. It is the way of the Dragon to be the fastest of the Stahl. It is the way of the Dragon to burn the brightest of the Stahl. Carry the heat of creation onward for the good of the Stahl.” From his bath beneath the magma, the Steel Dragon rises. His meditations ended, it was time for him to prove himself once more. Failure had been an embarrassment. Today, he would return to form. He walked out into the massive stone arena, its floor ringed with burning magma. Before him stand five of the Long Gang, prepared to make him earn his title. With a nod, it begins. Combat between the Stahl was a terrifying thing. Long ago, they had realized the impracticality of creating weapons that would actually harm them, and for centuries they had trained to perfect a martial art that could subdue the undisciplined among them. The Steel Dragon strikes out at the first of his opponents with a quick and crippling chop to the neck, plunging the warrior several feet into the rocky battlefield. When fighting Stahl, it was important to use their weight against them. With enough force, one could break the ground beneath them, and make it quite difficult for them to climb out. With a resounding gong, one of the Long Gang answers with a fist to the left of the Steel Dragon’s chest. It was a dirty shot. To destroy the mark which gave life to a Stahl is to kill them. That warrior must seek his position. The Steel Dragon quickly dodges past him and sends an unprepared warrior into the lava with a leaping kick. It would take time for him to wade out of the thick liquid. The next two warriors meet with a similar fate as the first, as the Steel Dragon shatters the ground beneath them to stop their advance. Their combined tonnage is enough to prevent their escape without assistance. Finally, he turns to face his would-be killer. The final way to immobilize a Stahl was perhaps the most difficult. As the assassin approaches, the Steel Dragon grabs the oncomer’s fist and brings himself up behind him. The ultimate form of dominance was to make another Stahl submit with a grapple. Striking swiftly behind the knee of the warrior as he stumbles forward, the Steel Dragon seizes the opportunity to put his arm around the warrior’s neck. The assassin tumbles shamefully to the ground. To move now would be to lose his arm, and to lose his arm would mean eventual defeat. It is over. “Perhaps if you were not so focused on your goal of killing me you would have seen how I could use it against you. You will pay for your treachery.” (1 man army raised, no other successes) Stormborn: 10, 17, 11, 15 With the arrival of the Songbirds returns the vitality of the storm. Lighting crackles and winds howl as the pirates evaluate the progress Artemis had made upon the Dark Moon defenses. The weathered and battered lightning rods, which had wreaked so much havoc on the Storm’s energies, remain the answer. However, innovation was needed, as well as manpower. It was decided that the lightning rods, while originally a solid concept as anchors, drained too much power from other parts of the storm. Instead, they would be launched within air bubbles into the storm, and the power of the lightning medallions would be channeled into them at all times. The burden of anchoring would be passed from the Storm to the Stormborn, as three individuals would need to be stationed at each anchor at all times, putting their own energies back into their origin. Should there not be enough volunteers, the Songbirds would be certain to find candidates. (Dark Moon Protection GET!) The Songbirds search the Stormborn for nearly two weeks before they find him: an ancient man known simply as Nelson. He had existed in the Storm for longer than anyone could remember, and stories of his origin were vast and varied. They all made one claim, however. Nelson knew ships. Under his guidance, plans were laid out for a fleet of ships built in the same style as those of the Songbirds- a three-masted sloop built for speed and maneuverability. They featured a new kind of rigging, however. By setting a triangular sail aft of the mast with its head raised to the top of the mast and attaching it to a boom, the ship is able to be catch the wind from many different angles. This improved design pleases the Songbirds, reminding them of many hit-and-runs in their past. (+2 navy bonus) The Kingdom of the Stars: 10, 15, 6, 8 Despite the mental and physical protests of the rebels, Ake soon asserts his dominance over each of them. He cannot control them all simultaneously, at least, not any more than the howl allowed him to before, but he realizes he has gained the ability to control a small group absolutely. With great focus he can choose how gently they step, how keenly they spy, and how vicious they attack. It is a great improvement on his overarching commands. Moreover, this show of force cows the rebels: it is not particularly pleasant to have the leader of the pack living inside your head. He takes a moment to venture into each of their minds and make them bow before him. (military bonus +2) However, it had taken Ake some time to master his new skill. In the meantime his orders had been clear: make an example of those who dared rebel against the father’s chosen. Dozens of the upstarts had been slain, and their pelts nailed to trees around the army encampments and some in the center of towns. The result successfully terrified the people away from the thought of more rebellion, but it had cost the Kingdom many able bodies, and no new army can be raised. Akachk Confederation: 12, 2, 18, 8 “Quietly now, he doesn’t like to be bothered past the Dark Moon.” The paddles dip gently into the water as the brothers slow their pace. Before them sits a rocky outcrop, barely peeking out from between the wave crests. The stone is a deep black, shiny and smooth, and seeming to shine beneath the last light of the purple moon. As they disembark, Asab motions for absolute silence, and his sons unload a large burlap sack from the rowboat. Songi in the meantime is fully focused on maintaining his balance on the slippery rocks- he has not been near the ocean much before, and the cool water occasionally splashing the back of his legs continuously startles him. “This way.” The outcrop seems to wind for about a hundred yards out into the ocean, the stone nearly invisible in many parts to all but Asab’s keen eyes. Managing by solely the dull purple light that tinges the sky, the group stays close to one another, mirroring each other’s footsteps. It is several minutes before they arrive at the largest mound on the island, a single fifteen foot stone with a pool at its base. Strange markings are carved across its surface, some even bearing a likeness to primitive Akachk. The brothers shove Songi out of the way as they bring the sack forward, laying it on a smooth stone table behind the pool. “Last chance to be gone friend. After this, you’re in with us.” (literally one more success) The expansions to the south are a great success. Unlike the western coast of the peninsula, the land here opens up into a system of valley and plains, prime feeding grounds for the kikadangs. The herders move here with great haste. Sakahi on the other hand, is having more trouble. He is modelling his current hypothesis for better combustion off of a dangerous mining occurrence- a massive explosion in the mines some time ago that was caused, he believes by a problem with the air. However, he needs more samples from coal mines themselves to find out more about the exact situation, and he is rarely able to leave his laboratory due to the demands of his research. (Expansion GET, -10 wealth, +5 income) (Moar successes everywhere) N.B.R: 5, 17, 14, 1 “Bearable Victory” lives up to his name and his betting odds. Within ten feet victory, his decisive move involved goring the competition, “Slap Happy”, and having a final snack as he spun a trail of red blood across the finish line. This wanton violence elicits a great cheer from the crowds, who are excited to see the first blood sport in the short history of the NBR. The inclusion of the bears proves to be a mixed bag, however. The fierceness of the bears deters many human riders, who had originally wished to be excluded from the silly competition anyway. Similarly, there are many who agree that the bears provide an unfair advantage, despite arguments that human blubber slides more quickly than fun on the ice. In the end, a divisive but economically viable decision is made- the Rotund Races are segregated into two divisions- one featuring bears clawing past each other to victory and the other revolving around humans flopping quickly towards the finish line. The Rotund Ravagers and the Rotund Racers will never meet again. (no culture, +3 income) Meanwhile, Kerlioh has slaved away to create a type of helmet that the bears will wear. It seemed that anything that was metal was right out: they had crushed her first design beneath their big useless claws. They did seem to be interested in having a lot of protection however, as the thin leather skullcap was turned down as well. In the end, a thick and fuzzy helmet it made, with a single piece of medal to rest over the brow of the bear. This helmet would provide some protection to the otherwise unarmored bears. (+2 military) The few emigrants who leave the city in the wake of the revolution are never heard from again. It is assumed that they became lost in the seasonal ice, but other suggest a more malevolent force exists out beyond the edges of the NBR. (No expansion, trade radius reduced by 5) The Remoran Gods: 17, 9, 20, 2 It is a great day on the island of Cheforna. Never before have they seen such a powerful group of individuals arrive in their lands. And in swan boats, no less. Yet the gods arrive all the same. Domnall, now properly beconched, was an even more intimidating presence than they remembered, and even making such a small group of sailors believe in a god of bar fights had a noticeable impact on his power. There is a great celebration for their arrival, which Domnall uses to introduce the gods. While the concept of a god of dentists and a god of Wednesdays are somewhat lost on the locals, Pung and Samin receive an exceptionally warm reception as they lead the Chefornak in their festivities. Domnall, in the meantime, gets roaring drunk, and uses his unpowered body to fight some of the stronger individuals. In the end, almost all of the island is converted to the worship of these gods, though some benefit more than others. Pung receives more devotion than even Domnall, so great is the Chefornak’s love of dance. Rega on the other hand, grumbles quietly to himself. At least Dunlap could teach the islanders what a Wednesday was. Dentists? Rega wasn’t even sure they existed anymore. Yet he was still alive, and so he would try. (+6 culture) Thoughts of the Great enemy are slowly crowded out by the tales of these new gods. Despite her frequent acts of terror and malevolence, the presence of Samin slowly takes the fear out of the Chefornak. In time she realizes that a failure to maintain supporters will be her end. As such, she passes on to her fearful believers a set of rites and superstitions that will allow her to exist, even though her time as a powerful god have passed. (Rebellion put down via 20, carry on) Hypnosomus: 15, 18, 10, 15, 2 Sao travels once more throughout the gardens of Hypnosomus, and begins to exert her own level of control over the Morpheons and the Icelos. Taking a few of each to the side, she begins to teach them (as best as she can imagine it) a kind of music, made by a series of claps from the Morpheons and the ringing of the Icelos, which they make by shaking themselves gently. In time, she feels that they will be able to make and come up with songs all on their own. But for now, they are a tad out of tune. (moar successes for culture slow growth) Similarly, she encourages the Icelos to grow the most traded fruit in the garden- sweet berries. The tiny golden berries are loved by both the Katoba and the Peters, who have found all kinds of uses for it. While the Katoba use the sweet berries to make a kind of invigorating tea, the Peters have begun injecting its juice into their nutrient paste in order to make it more bearable, while also pressing the berries to extract a lubricating oil. If the Icelos can make large enough gardens of the sweetberries, Sao is sure that both of the peoples her father trades with will be pleased. (Moar successes for income slow growth). The Dark Moon is a mystery to Sao, who has not been alive during its coming. Though she talks about it for a long time with her father, she decides that she will have to experience its effects before she can figure out how to prevent it from giving him the migraines that he so often gets. However, she begins searching the garden for a plant which will alleviate his pain. Hypnosomus is pleased with this outcome, and stretches himself to the northeast, hoping that more contact with the cool water will help as well. (No Dark Moon successes, Expansion GET, -10 wealth +5 income, no slow growth) Katoba: 6, 10, 15, 17 The stories Apacha tell rouse something in the hearts of the Katoba. He is right. The ancestors had claimed the vast steppes as their own for a reason, for a purpose. It is here that the Katoba will become great. They decide against flight for now, and begin a ceremony of nightly telling of these stories, to ward away the demons and monsters of the night. This new Time of Telling becomes a time of unity for the fearful Katoba, who relish the time they now spend together instead of in separate tents. With each night that passes and with each lighting of the bonfires, they feel as though the evils of the steppes grow further away from them. The elders are pleased with this turn of events- the Katoba are of sound mind once more, and they can return to the anointing of their campsites and the teaching of rituals, which had been abandoned during their Great Migration. (+4 culture) Ever since that night, Otakay’s blade has begun to glow, illuminating the symbols that were revealed during the elders’ ceremony so long ago. It is a good omen. Battles: Battle of the Fields: Kingdom of the Stars 4, 16 +2,+2= 24 Philosopher’s Children 5, 12= 17 Ake releases the Howl into the wind as his people bound towards the armies of the Philosopher. The defenders are each divided into their own groups of unsteady soldiers- every man with a spear stands in the same neatly arranged square, as does each swordsman, and each alchemist and so on down the line. Today, the organized would meet chaos. The philosopher soldiers march their spears forward to meet the incoming beastmen, but are left surprised when instead of a charge they are met with a volley of javelins, launched from within the mass of fur at Ake’s thought. Many of the deadly missiles find their mark in the simple cloth armor of the soldiers before the People bound backward into the hills once more. The defending battalions are left confused: they were prepared for an assault on their kingdom, not such a short skirmish. As the spearmen march backwards unsteadily to the other groups, Ake howls again, and once more the javelineers bound forward to launch their deadly missiles into the unprotected masses. Despite a few lucky casks, violently singeing the slowest of the People, the defenders have little answer to the consistent onslaught of javelins from the beastmen. Deciding their best answer is to fall back to the walls of the capital, they begin their retreat in an orderly fashion. Ake frowns. Normally it is when prey turns tail and runs that the hunter can have his fun, but this enemy retreated with its spikes still towards you. He would have to hunt patiently. Under one final flurry of javelins, the gates of the city close and Ake begins to plot how best to proceed with his assault. Victory for the Kingdom of the Stars, the armies of the Philosopher retreat and will fight at half strength next turn. +5 income to the Kingdom of the Stars, -5 from the Children of the Philosopher, no armies lost.Category:Nationbuilder VII Turn Records